Heat Lightning - Blue Train's Second Official Performance

 Mike Hartnett - David Propst - Tom Reeves - Rick Miller - George Osing     Blue Train

21 July 2013  Spring Grove, Pa.

       The best part of the day was talking to three couples who had never been to Goofy's Eatery and Spirits out on York Road in Spring Grove. I like to do the detective work: Why are you here? Do you follow the music? Do you know who these guys are? What possessed you on a hot, July afternoon to come and listen to bluegrass? I'm that way. I can do it in a nice way so the strangers never suspect I'm grilling them. In the background, and beyond Whitey Runkle's custom-made pavilion sidings, heat lightning is crackling on the horizon. Storm clouds are building. I feel like the Grand Inquisitor. Rick Miller is up on stage belting out Hank's "Your Cheatin' Heart." I had to stop the questioning and listen. I don't believe Rick Miller and Blue Train is doing that song. The audience goes nuts. It ain't bluegrass and never was, but it fits the mood. It's about entertainment on a Sunday afternoon with Heat Lightning in the background and a large crowd of patrons having a good time in the big pavilion attached to the back of Goofy's restaurant and tavern.
       This is heaven. The last bastion of traditional bluegrass music outside of  Jumbo Jimmy's Crab Shack and the Arcadia Bluegrass Festival. There are one or two other places, but to me they're like good fishing holes or the best Vietnamese restaurants. I'm very cautious as to who I give away their locations. Today at Goofy's it's a pretty special occasion and a lot of people who aren't at Goofy's normally, are there to see Blue Train perform for only the second officially-scheduled performance. Word of mouth is huge in the bluegrass community, and word got around when Blue Train performed there for the first time on June 16th, 2013 (Father's Day). I didn't want to miss this second outing. I knew they would stir up the pot and try some different songs, different arrangements. This band is bottled magic and highly skilled. The wonder of it, as I sat and thought about it, is they haven't even found or hit their stride yet as a working unit. They're that good. The specialness of the occasion could also be felt in who was in the room to have a good time right along with all the rest of the folks. There was a sprinkling of fellow-musician friends who were there to check out the band too. They were there to hear music and talk bluegrass, talk about gigs and old connections.
      More people are coming in and the dance floor is getting more crowded as Rick Miller, Mike Hartnett, David Propst, Tom Reeves, and George Osing heat up the music. Goofy's owner and Proprietor 'Whitey' Runkle and his staff are having a field day with the customers. I got a chance to talk to him. "My wife and I took a trip to Key West and we ran into the neatest biker bar. It was a neighborhood place. Clean and safe, where people could feel at home. I got the idea to have a place like that here in Spring Grove." says Whitey.
Seven years ago he took a chance on bluegrass music (he was already offering rock and roll and country/western). Some locals convinced him that it would draw in customers and sell food and drinks. "It's not always been easy," said Whitey, "It's a delicate balancing act to get the right bands.  Here's Sarah Shock. She was a big help in building up the good entertainment." There were others who stood by the music: Ed Tillman, Donny and Kathy, Kathy and Woody, the Herb Martin Family out of Westminster, the local band Long Ryde, just to name a very few.  It helps to serve up good food right along with the good music. Nothing fancy here. Just stick-to-the-ribs eats tending more toward seafood. The most popular platter-style meal is "The Big Fish" and that's exactly what it is.
       The lightning stopped and it looks like we're going to dodge a bullet. Blue Train is launching into another surprise: "I'm a Lonesome Fugitive" by Merle Haggard. I love it. And the crowd is hooting and hollering and wants to dance. Old folks, young folks, people who are dear old friends, and people who hardly know each other. That's what I've come to expect among the bluegrass community. They want to have a good time and enjoy the company of others who like the same music. Whether you got here on a mule or a Harley isn't a consideration. I have to hand it to Whitey Runkle. He's offering a rare commodity and taking a chance on it. Trying to make a buck on bluegrass in today's economy is a risk not too many bars and restaurants are willing to make. He knows the cash-flow totally depends on getting Entertainment Value, and not just anybody off the street who thinks they know something about music. This is what makes Goofy's a different kind of establishment.
       Blue Train will be back September 1st, 2013, and the music begins at 4:00 and ends at 8:00. In the meantime other great bands are there every weekend - some of the most recognizable names in Maryland and southern Pennsylvania music circles. Blue Train is traditional bluegrass, very tight, very professional, and consists of  Rick Miller (Guitar and vocals) David Propst (Mandolin and vocals) Mike Hartnett (Fiddle) George Osing (Banjo) and Tom Reeves (Bass). The vocal-work is spectacular along with the instrumental structure and unity - rare to find a band that can handle both.

Whitey Runkle and Sarah Shock - Sticking with musical tradition

He's Holding a Banjo, So It Must Be Bluegrass . . .

15 July 2013:  From the Field:

      I love You Tube. I can generally find a band, performer, or musical act and check them out before I ever invest my gas money to go see them. Most of the stuff up on You Tube is so badly produced that it doesn't do any performer any marketing favors. A camera on a mobile phone in a noisy bar full of drunken, screaming, 21-year olds will never capture the artistic intent. It won't help to 'sell' a band, either. A few weeks ago somebody recommended I take a look at a band that was coming to the DC area. They were being hailed as a young, up and coming, bluegrass act. As suspected, it was four young people playing a collection of percussive devices, one kid strumming a banjo, and one kid strumming a cheap guitar. He strummed the basic blues chords - Ad nauseam - Every song. I kept shuffling the videos hoping I would hear some bluegrass. I'm glad I could rely on You Tube to help me save some ticket money. Interestingly, this page led me to hundreds of other pages where young people were extolling great street bands they'd seen on their latest vacation in New Orleans. Now granted, I've never been to New Orleans so this fascinated me. What didn't fascinate me was the tag on every one of these videos that said, "Real Delta Blues Band Plays in New Orleans." You have to check this out. Every one of the dreadfully produced videos usually show a bunch of kids who look like run-aways. They all look dirty. Like somehow personal hygiene problems are definitely connected to what might be suspected substance abuse problems. There might be 6 or seven of them in the 'band,' but usually only one person is playing a guitar, banjo, or fiddle. The rest are beating on things picked up out of the city trash. Wash-boards and big whiskey jugs (a la 1960's) are there too, to give it that Zydeco touch.  That's the sum total of any musical knowledge. The guitar-player is ALWAYS in an E-chord. Pan-handling the tourists is usually a part of the act, too. After watching these, and seeing how many there were, any thoughts of taking a vacation in New Orleans faded out of my brain-housing group. Sort of like dreaming of that vacation in San Francisco, until you get there and are greeted by San Francisco's out-of-control homeless problem.
      You Tube thus serves as a good resource for checking something out before you unwittingly pay your hard-earned money and sit down in an auditorium seat. Lately I've noticed that this same 'style' of band is creeping into bluegrass festivals, known and lesser known, and showing up at places that cater to trying to please the general public's musical tastes. The travesty is when they are promoted or packaged as bluegrass bands, either by people who don't know the difference, or by people who hired them on hear-say, or the misdirected recommendation of a friend in the business. What really hurts, and I hear this all the time while I'm out in the field is somebody from the general public saying "well I see a banjo and a fiddle, so they must be bluegrass." Watching the annual Mummers' Parade in Philadelphia with its thousands of people strumming thousands of banjos, all playing "Happy Days Are Here Again," isn't bluegrass, either. The only saving grace is the good people of Philadelphia know it has nothing to do with bluegrass, and don't promote it as such.  

Public Disclaimer

Public Disclaimer from Ed Henry:

The "Approved by Jimmy Martin" Logo displaying a photo of  'Marvin' (a beagle owned by Douglas Ross) was designed by me and has no official connection to Jimmy Martin, the Jimmy Martin Estate, or to Jimmy Martin's descendants or family members. The use of the Logo is to bring serious attention to those bands, musicians, or individuals who uphold and perpetuate the style and quality of Jimmy Martin's music, or, continue to play Jimmy's songs as part of their repertoire. The design and use of the "Approval" is meant in serious good faith and is in no way an attempt to discredit or draw humor from the good name of Jimmy Martin. He was and forever will be, The King of Bluegrass. (7 July 2013)

Marvin the Beagle, owned by Douglas Ross (Dry Mill Road Band, Winchester, Va.)

Paying Your Artistic Dues - Stoney Creek Bluegrass

 Darrell Sanders - Brett Smeltzer - Libby Files - Eddie Barney

5 July 2013 - Martinsburg, West Virginia

     It's Hot. My God, is it hot. I'm sitting smack dab in the middle of the city of Martinsburg waiting for Libby Files and Stoney Creek Bluegrass to come on and perform for the "Friday @ Five" concert series. I'm wondering if anyone is going to show. There are a few shade trees and little else. The stage area, if you can call it that, is up against a brick building that looks very ancient. The building is on a direct east to west axis, which means no matter what time of the day, the band is going to be in the blazing late-afternoon sun. Across the street is the Berkeley County Court House. It's a beautiful Victorian-style structure and it lends a quaint air to the emptiness of the city-center of Martinsburg. I got here early. You never know what traffic is going to be like on a Friday afternoon leaving the Washington suburbs. I was happy to find out that there was plenty of close parking once I got here. A few local citizens are starting to filter in and I'm surprised at that considering the sun and heat.
     The last time I tried to catch this band it was a totally funny experience of rain storms, getting lost by absolutely wrong Google instructions, and getting lost by local citizens giving me bad information. That's the West Virginia/Maryland Panhandle region for you - hard to find, hard to figure out, but once discerned and understood, a treasure-trove of historical sites, stories, and marvelous bluegrass and mountain music. The Hedgesville-Martinsburg area is particularly rich with more than a few bluegrass bands and family groups that are popular and performing all the time. My philosophy is I can't sit in the DC suburbs and wait for the music to come to me. I have to drive out here to Martinsburg to hear the kind of bluegrass I want to hear. I want my bluegrass old-style and traditional. In that respect, it's worth it for me to drive a hundred miles to catch a band like Stoney Creek. Interestingly, the "Friday @ Five" Concert Series has booked some good traditional bands, along with other styles of music to please the general public. The Series is promoted and funded by the City of Martinsburg, the Martinsburg/Berkeley County Convention and Visitors Bureau, Main Street Martinsburg, and several other sponsors. I can always rely on "CVB's" really good promotion of locally-grown West Virginia style bluegrass.
     Stoney Creek Bluegrass is Libby Files (bass) Eddie Barney (guitar) Brett Smeltzer (mandolin) and Darrell Sanders (banjo) and they have a consistent history of longevity and popularity in the Panhandle and beyond at a lot of big festivals. One main strength is gospel vocals and that is a fantastic gift in itself, but they mix up the program enough to suit any traditionalist taste in old-time bluegrass. There is a lot of flash and hard-drive in all the instrumental work, but it's there just when it's needed, and never overbearing. It's not an easy thing to put all these elements together. Eddie Barney is an accomplished flatpicker and plays one of the sweetest Taylor Guitars I've ever heard. Something about the sound of it reverberating off the brick building behind Eddie. Darrell Sanders and Brett Smeltzer played their guts out in the heat of the afternoon with just a short break to get some water and wipe the sweat off their instruments during mid-show. Two hours of paying your dues in the world of bluegrass. I looked behind me (which I hadn't done during the whole two hours,) and realized that across the street in the shade of the few available trees, the audience had grown considerably since the first down-beat. Not bad. Not bad at all. Just to show the audience they weren't done yet, Stoney Creek finished up with an encore of Jimmy Martin's "Freeborn Man" - with all the necessary gusto. Wonderful. And I often wonder if the general public realizes what working musicians have to go through and endure to please an audience. Thank you, Stoney Creek Bluegrass.

Let's Throw it in the Crick and See if it Floats

 Mike Hartnett - Dave Propst - Tom Reeves - Rick Miller - George Osing     Blue Train

16 June 2013

      Sort of like a ship-launch. You never know what's going to happen. All that planning, all the right forces coming together just at the exact point and then it's time to let her go and slide down the ways. I saw a missile frigate being launched into the Kennebec River in Bath, Maine once. One of the most exciting things I ever witnessed. You wonder if this big steel monster is really going to do what it's supposed to do. The launch of a new band is no different. They might be really good or they might sink on the first night - or maybe in a year or two. The excitement is that you were there to see the big launch. You were there to see them either sink or swim. Just about everybody's gone through that "Andy Hardy Moment" where it might be neat to "put on a show." Or, after learning three chords and one bad rock song decide you want to start a garage band and drive your parents and all the neighbors nuts with long sessions of noise. It all looks so easy. Go to a local "open mic" and become some kind of performance artist. Do your own thing whether people like it or not, just because it's your own thing, even though a million other neophytes have done exactly the same thing you're doing.
      Blue Train is about to launch at Goofy's Eatery and Spirits up in Spring Grove, Pa. I'm here to see what they do, but I'm here mainly because of the line-up. With this kind of line-up it has to be worth my drive all the way up from Vienna, Virginia. I would have driven all this way just because of two of the people who are playing, and not because it's the debut of a new entity in bluegrass music. What you need to know immediately is, they are all, except for one person, former members of Satyr Hill Bluegrass. Satyr Hill is a Maryland institution when it comes to performance longevity. The former members, and now with the inclusion of fiddler Mike Hartnett, are all well-known names in Maryland music circles. If you know bluegrass you know these guys. Their skill and passion for playing the music has reached beyond state lines. After making some momentous decisions barely a few months ago and with little more than five practice sessions, Rick Miller, George Osing, Tom Reeves, Dave Propst, and Mike Hartnett gathered their talents and came up with their first official gig before they even had a name for themselves. I heard about it through Dave Propst, but had no idea until one day before the event that it was Blue Train's grand inaugural launch.
      You expect glitches and mistakes. Even the most seasoned professionals experience nervousness. It can all work (or not work) to make you look like Andy Hardy or Tony Bennett. What was really great about this particular performance was, it was Father's Day and the place was packed with locals and the vaguely curious. Goofy's is a unique venue with a very discerning bluegrass audience. It's literally out in the middle of nowhere, three miles outside a dinky little Pennsylvania town called Spring Grove. But put this thought aside for the moment. Most of the best Maryland and Pennsylvania bluegrass groups have played here to large audiences. When you sit down and talk to the patrons it becomes abundantly clear that these people know their bluegrass and they'll tell you up front what they like and what they don't like. They like it hard-core. They're salt-of-the-earth locals out to have a good time and be entertained. Their dollars are precious to them and hard-earned, so they vote with their dollars for what they consider as their best entertainment. The owner of Goofy's, 'Whitey' Runkle, knows this dynamic well and continues to bring interesting entertainment for his patrons. I have to hand it to him for supporting bluegrass on the truly local level. Where the rubber meets the road. He gambled on the names of the players alone, and won in the end.
      You even expect a rough start but Blue Train lit right into the obligatory breakdown to get the ball rolling, then flew immediately into "Little Cabin on the Hill" and then a gospel number, "Satan is Waiting His Turn" (always dangerous in a bar where people are drinking on a Sunday, and Father's Day at that!) Then they went into "Helen" and the old chestnut "Angeline the Baker." Next came Hank's "Your Cheatin' Heart." I thought to myself what road are they going down next? I made a joke to Dempsey and Rebecca Price that it wouldn't be long before somebody yelled for ""Rocky Top." Rick Miller (guitar and lead vocals) went into "Summer Time" to add a blues flavor to the mix. Out of the entire evening, three hours of music and a huge swath of songs, I thought this is the only one that didn't work for me. But the audience seemed to like it. By the time they got to "Sing Me Back Home" (Merle Haggard) and "Wild Bill Jones" the audience was up on their feet and loving every minute of it. The launch had worked. The boat could actually float. It was smooth sailing for the rest of the voyage. Midway, it came out of the audience: "Play Rocky Top!!" Rick Miller graciously accepted the request and gave the lady what she wanted. Everyone laughed and jumped on the dance floor. The vocals came off perfect.
      It was obvious Blue Train was pulling out all the stops. Trying everything on the enthusiastic audience. But there's nothing wrong with that. You have to show your stuff and at the same time find your own sound or distinct groove. It'll take a couple years to do that. These guys come prepared with a rich history and a rich palette of material. I really appreciated the vocal work of Rick, Dave, and Tom. It was flawless and enjoyable. What I really appreciated most was their attitude of professionalism toward their craft, and that showed in everything they did in front of this very discerning audience. The toughest thing in bluegrass is getting all those right gears to mesh: the playing, the vocals, the timing, and as Rick Miller likes to say "The Tone." It was all clicking at Goofy's on Father's Day. They've been invited back and that's usually the best indicator that 'ya done good.'  Expect to see them perform again in early September.

From Poland . . .

       Ed Henry and 'Ariel' in Siedlec, Poland, May 2013

     This story is about dogs and I wrote it especially for Doug Ross, who plays mandolin for Dry Mill Road Bluegrass (Winchester, Virginia). I met Doug a couple of years ago. He's a quiet and reserved guy until you get him on the subject of Beagles. I know and understand Doug. His love of dogs tells me everything I need to know about him. My mother once said that when the Henry Family gathered there were always dogs around, and kids playing with dogs. All the old family pictures prove it. She's right. I remember every dog that seemed to be a part of our growing-up. We always had mutts. No show dogs here. The mixed-breeds always made the better family pet. We recently made a trip to Poland to visit with Connie's relatives in a little village (Siedlec) outside of Krakow. I posted a picture of me and their dog on Facebook and made a comment that Doug Ross responded to: he said, "Yeah, but I'll bet she liked you, anyway."  She did, Doug, but now here's the whole story of how I met up with "Ariel."
       Adam and Irena Konieczny, Connie's cousins, met us at Krakow (John Paul II International) Airport and we headed out of the Krakow area west to Siedlec. The ride is magnificent. A progression from major highways down to smaller and smaller country roads. It's not unusual to have to stop for tractors or farm wagons being hauled by horses. It's rolling countryside bordered with hills. Not unlike Virginia's Shenandoah Valley. It's May and the depth of the color green is cut every once in a while with strips of bright yellow that goes for miles. The bright yellow is some kind of plant that produces canola oil. It's really something to see from up in the air, especially this time of the year when you're flying over France, Germany, or Poland. I forget the name of the plant. As we head toward the village I see more fields of it, but now I can experience it from ground level. The towns get smaller as we near Siedlec. We start climbing upward on beat-up asphalt country roads. People wave to us for no particular reason except to acknowledge us. We reach Adam's house and further up the hill I notice a huge forest of hardwoods. We're greeted by a skittish dog as we haul in our luggage and make a lot of noise trying to settle ourselves after such an exhausting flight. "That's  Ariel," says Irena as she shows us to our room on the second floor. It's a beautiful house. I notice how it's sturdily built to protect it against Poland's harsh winters. I try to pet Ariel, but she runs from me and hides under a table. She's a pretty dog - some kind of mix of hunting dog - not big and goofy, and not small, either. She looks like a runner. I decided that "skittish" or not, me and the dog were going to be fast friends by the time the trip was over.
      That evening we sat down to a huge traditional Polish dinner. Irena is a marvelous cook, which I already knew from previous trips to visit them. Ariel remained hidden and away from the table and when I tried to reach out to her she would run to another part of the house. After dinner, we all went for a walk up the hill to get some exercise. Of course it was more for Ariel's benefit than ours. We got to the edge of the forest and turned around. In the evening we fell into bed and slept well, knowing that it would take us a day or two to recuperate through the jet-lag. Morning broke the next day. A bit cloudy and warm, but the weather for our vacation looked promising. We were all out of bed by 8:00 am. At breakfast, Ariel flopped herself down at my feet underneath the breakfast table. I reached down and scratched her head. Connie loves to walk. I love to explore. I don't care if it's Asia or Poland. I like to experience everything at the neighborhood level. We decided to go for a walk and I asked Adam if it was OK to take Ariel with us. He agreed. I stepped toward Ariel's leash hanging by the front door. Ariel rushed up behind me with tail wagging, and that look - the one dog's get when they know they're going to be part of the excursion. As I snapped the hook on the leash, Ariel looked at me as if to say, "This guy's Ok. He's going to be my new friend!" Our second night in Siedlec, Ariel started following me up to the second floor every time I had to go to our room to get something out of our suitcases. Adam and Irena commented on it and laughed about it. I also noticed on our first night that Ariel slept in their room when they went to bed. Adam and Irena (both retired) were also late-risers, which is pretty difficult to be when you're living in the countryside.
      On the third morning we were there, I had to get up at 0400 to make a head call. Not only that, but I noticed that the birds started singing at about the same time. It sounded like a bunch of Virginia mocking birds. I opened our bedroom door in the dark and stumbled over a large form on the floor. I  stepped on a bony leg and then heard a yelp. Ariel was in front of our door. She followed me to the bathroom and then followed me back to the bedroom door.  It was pitch-dark. The sun hadn't even come up yet. I went back to bed, but then heard scratching at the door. "Alright," I thought to myself, "Let's go for an early pre-dawn Polish adventure!"
      Trying to remember the layout of the house, the location of the leash and the house-key, and trying to calm down Ariel's excitement, I made it out of the house and into the road. The small settlement seemed deserted but in the blue of the dawn I could see lights coming on in the houses nearby. Ariel was in her element and happy as she pulled on the leash. I established right away who was in charge of this venture. We stopped a few times to view some vegetable gardens. One of the locals, already out and about and firing up a tiller greeted me in Polish and I tried to say to him I was American, and had no idea how to respond to him. He laughed and talked to Ariel instead. I would learn soon enough that everyone on the road knew Ariel, just as Adam and Irena knew all the dogs on the road and who the dogs belonged to. We progressed up the hill. It was obvious Ariel wanted to go into the forest. I took her in just a hundred feet or so and then turned around. For me it was uncharted territory. I didn't know if it was private property or not. There were signs, but I didn't read Polish. I didn't want to be an Ugly American.
      After that adventure, Ariel's attachment to her "new friend" got worse. It became constant. Up the stairs, down the stairs, sitting in a room, or just walking around the well-fenced yard outside. First it was two walks a day with Ed, or Ed and Connie, and then three walks a day. The 0400 wake-up walk in the pre-dawn got to be a habit that I didn't think Adam and Irena would much appreciate after the Americans left Siedlec. Every day also, we went further into the woods after I found out it was public land. Ariel loved it. Then one day we took a few steps and a big deer leaped up in front of us and Ariel got the shock of her doggie existence. She almost tore off her collar and almost broke the leash. I would have given anything to let her go and chase this magnificent animal. It looked like a big doe. The deer flew through the ferns and hardwoods and was gone.  Then on Day Four, while I had our bedroom door opened and I was digging into my suit-case for something, Ariel came running in and took a big leap up on our bed. Connie and I started laughing. Ariel had that look of triumph on her face. She had won, and she knew it. Connie and I had a serious discussion - like when you're trying to deal with a child and a serious issue. We laughed a lot about it. The vacation was one of our best-ever. All we could do is laugh about it. The hospitality of our hosts and the good people in Siedlec, and how much we were welcomed by Connie's relatives Adam and Irena. Mostly, we laughed about how simply the love and unquestioning loyalty of a dog can make the difference between having a good vacation or an absolutely GREAT vacation. That's the story, Doug, I know you care about mutts as much as I do.

The Back Creek Valley Boys - The "Go-To" Guys

     Brandon Michael, Ike Jordan, Randy Kenney, and Andrew Jordan. Frank Maietta is obscured, 

off to the  left of the picture.

10 June 2013

     An interesting bunch of good men. I first met them at a small event near Martinsburg, West Virginia two years ago. Unfortunately, it was an almost cold and very rainy mid-summer day and not many people showed. But the event was fantastic and the music was far above average for such a localized event. It was obscure and way out in the middle of nowhere and I'm not surprised that it didn't draw a lot of people. But in an odd way, that was the beauty of it. A whole afternoon of up-close-and-personal good bluegrass music. After experiencing The Back Creek Valley Boys at several more West Virginia Pan Handle performances, I began to understand that they were not only a good band, but had a mission of sorts to promote those things that make West Virginia a unique place to visit, a good place to do business, and maybe even a good state to retire to. They do a lot of performing for the Berkeley County Visitors and Convention Bureau. They are involved in promoting many of the local festivals that bring in needed 'outsider' dollars for the local economy. They like their brand of music. It's hard-core bluegrass. Mountain-flavored and unadulterated. The band specializes in one-microphone-only harmonizing. It's done the old-fashioned way, and they're good. Ike Jordan serves as the unelected leader and spokesman. Ike plays mandolin and his son Andrew plays guitar and provides lead vocals. Randy Kenney plays stand-up bass and loves his role as the guy who drives the rhythm. Brandon Michael is widely known for his fine fiddling and has played with some of the best bluegrass groups in West Virginia and Maryland. Frank Maietta rounds out the group with some amazing banjo-picking. For you Marines out there who read my stuff, Frank served with distinction in the 3rd Marine Division. The band members live around the Martinsburg area and are proud West Virginians, except for Frank and Brandon who hail from Maryland. With the start of the festival and touring season getting into full-swing, I checked with Randy Kenney a few days ago and asked him where I could catch an upcoming performance. "Oh," he said, "We're playing next Saturday at a Rt. 81 Rest Stop on the West Virginia/Maryland border."  Sounding like a weird place to play bluegrass, I had to inquire further. They were hired by the highway authority, or somebody, to play for a couple hours and entertain visitors coming into West Virginia. What a great marketing ploy. Show them the best that West Virginia has to offer. Make them want to come into West Virginia more often. Maybe for a vacation or go to any of the numerous mountain music festivals. The Back Creek Valley Boys have become the "Go To" guys when you want to promote the State of West Virginia. They're doing what they like to do and at the same time serving a unique civic role for the State.  Nice good work if you can get it.